


Knock on Wood

by ChristineQuizMachine



Series: Dogs in the Moonlight [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Friends With Benefits, Leonard Snart Being an Asshole, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Secrets, Title may change if I come up with something better, very light bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21645316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristineQuizMachine/pseuds/ChristineQuizMachine
Summary: “When I let myself in, you two were…well, it looked like you were…” His lips didn’t want to form the words. “What is going on here?!”“Uh…about that…” Cisco wrung his hands together. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, then shot Snart a desperateplease-help-me-out-herelook.Barry makes a surprise visit to Cisco’s apartment and learns a secret.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Iris West, Cisco Ramon/Leonard Snart
Series: Dogs in the Moonlight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560406
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40
Collections: Flarrowverse Shipyard





	Knock on Wood

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first installment in an AU series I’ve been planning for quite a while—more than a year, actually, which accounts for its placement in the “Flash” timeline. To clarify things, though: everything through Season 4 still happened, with the (significant, I’ll admit) exception of Nora West-Allen/XS going back in time to meet Team Flash. Meanwhile, Leonard Snart came back to life and settled down in Central City sometime during the summer of 2018. I have an idea for how, exactly, he came back (and why he’s not with the Legends anymore), but I don’t feel like writing that story just yet. All you need to know is that he’s not dead anymore.
> 
> Nota bene: there _are_ some allusions to sexual assault in this story, but nothing of the sort ACTUALLY happens—it’s all a misunderstanding. I’ll put a spoiler at the beginning of the end notes just in case anyone wants/needs a more detailed description of what to expect.

_It’s probably nothing…but what if it’s something?_ Barry thought to himself as he held his phone to his ear.

In the last 30 minutes, he’d tried to call Cisco four times. And each time, his phone had rung and rung and then gone to voicemail. Cisco had said, as he was leaving S.T.A.R. Labs for the night, that he was just going to go straight home. And, according to the tracking software on the device, Cisco’s phone was indeed at his apartment. So why wasn’t he answering?

“Maybe he’s asleep?” Caitlin suggested, glancing up at Barry from one of the Cortex work stations. “If his phone’s on vibrate, he could just be sleeping through the noise.”

Barry frowned. “It’s only 9:30. Since when does Cisco _ever_ go to bed that early? Especially with the city being so quiet lately.”

That was true; ever since Clifford DeVoe had almost succeeding in ‘enlightening’ the world back to the Stone Age, most of the truly dangerous criminals in Central seemed to have gone on break. Except for dealing with a few run-of-the-mill crooks, it had actually been a fairly easy summer (and early autumn). Even the Rogues had calmed down a bit, though that was probably due to Leonard Snart being back to keep them in line.

However, Barry had been doing the whole superhero thing for long enough to know that the lull couldn’t last forever. The last few days had seen them dealing with a fragnokinetic meta-human—real name: Devon Flint; Cisco-issued nickname: “Bombshell”—whose ability to blow _herself_ up (in addition to inanimate objects) and then reconstitute her body was making her relatively difficult to apprehend. Cisco’s initial suggestion (that they wait until she vaporized herself and then use a vacuum to suck up the fragments) was vetoed for being dangerous _(“We don’t know how long she can stay fragmented and then pull herself back together—what if we accidentally kill her?”_ Caitlin had pointed out), so they’d hit a wall. But after reviewing some environmental data from their last encounter, Barry had noticed that, before going BOOM, Flint’s body temperature always raised exponentially. He wondered if maybe cooling her off with one of the S.T.A.R. Labs cold guns could be a viable strategy for keeping her in one piece.

Flint was unlikely to strike again before the next morning, and she didn’t seem to be on the same level as any of the other “Big Bads” they’d tangled with in the past. So, there was really no reason for Barry to worry about talking to Cisco immediately.

But…what if the other shoe had finally dropped, and Cisco was in trouble?

_One last try,_ he thought to himself. He hit ‘CALL’ again. And, once more, Cisco’s phone rang four or five times before going to voicemail.

Barry sighed, then stood up. He couldn’t bring himself to wait any longer; he was just going to go check on his friend.

Caitlin noticed. “You heading out? I was just about to close up shop, too.”

“No. I mean, yes. I’m gonna run over to Cisco’s place to make sure he’s okay, but then I’ll go home.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” Caitlin said, shrugging. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Exactly. You need a ride back to your place?”

“No, I drove here. But if you want to walk me to my car, I definitely wouldn’t mind. Especially since Killer Frost is _still_ MIA.”

***

After watching Caitlin pull out of the S.T.A.R. Labs parking lot, Barry quickly texted Iris to tell her what he was about to do. Then, he slipped on his Flash suit and sped over to Cisco’s apartment. He considered, briefly, knocking on the door, but he thought better of it and simply phased through the structure. If Cisco was actually asleep, or just in the shower, or anything else mundane, Barry didn’t want to inconvenience him. He also didn’t want for any of Cisco’s neighbors to hear him knocking and come to investigate, only to see the Flash standing in front of Cisco’s door. Because _that_ would almost certainly cause a ruckus.

He was only there to check. If everything was okay, he’d leave, preferably before Cisco even noticed that he’d stopped by. In fact, Cisco would almost certainly rag on him for making a big deal out of nothing; he’d think that Barry was being paranoid, or possibly accuse him of acting like Cisco couldn’t take care of himself. That was why Barry made the conscious decision to speed up to Flashtime the moment he found himself inside the apartment.

Cisco’s place was relatively small, and Barry had crashed there enough times to know the basic layout. The front door opened up into the living room, which was attached to the kitchen as part of an open floorplan. There wasn’t a dedicated dining room so much as there was a dining “area” next to the kitchen. Beyond that, a small hallway led to Cisco’s bedroom. The bathroom was attached to the bedroom.

(This setup meant that a person inevitably had to walk through Cisco’s bedroom to reach the bathroom. Barry had lost track of the number of times he’d needed to use the toilet at Cisco’s place and had been told, “Sorry about the mess!” as he waded through the piles of clothes, books, and various knick-knacks that littered the floor. He supposed that having a long-distance, workaholic girlfriend had enabled Cisco to keep his bedroom in a state of disarray most of the time. Barry hadn’t been over there since Cisco and Cynthia had broken up, though, and he could only assume that the mess had gotten worse in the last few months.)

The first thing Barry noticed as he inspected the apartment was that all of the lights were turned off in the living room and kitchen. As far as he could tell, the whole place was dark except for the clocks on the microwave and oven and the digital displays of a few items Barry couldn’t quite identify. Despite the lack of illumination, though, he found Cisco’s phone when he got closer to the dining area. It was resting on the kitchen table, plugged into a nearby outlet to charge, and accompanied by a large pizza box and a few beer bottles—all empty.

Barry raised his eyebrows at the sight. If Cisco was eating (and drinking) that much on his own, then maybe he wasn’t handling the breakup as well as he’d been letting on.

The main living area didn’t yield any actual signs of life, but Barry was relieved to see that a small amount of light was coming from the other end of the hallway. It seemed to originate in Cisco’s bedroom, so he continued on in that direction. The door was open, and he poked his head inside, half-expecting to see Cisco asleep with his reading lamp on.

He was still in Flashtime, so the scene in the room was like a photograph. Barry’s jaw dropped when he saw what was actually going on:

Cisco, clad only in his boxers, was on his bed, kneeling with his thighs flush to his calves. Both arms were behind his back, and Barry could just barely make out a pair of handcuffs—shiny and nickel-colored—binding them in that position. And Leonard Snart was behind him, crouched and disrobed in a similar way, but his arms were free. One hand had nearly disappeared down the front of Cisco’s underwear, while the other had curved around to grip Cisco’s throat. Snart’s eyes were closed, and his mouth was on Cisco’s shoulder, like he was kissing him. Or biting him. Cisco’s eyes were closed, too, but his mouth was hanging open, frozen in mid-yelp.

For a little while, Barry did nothing but stare. Then, everything in his mind—logic, reason, empathy—gave way to rage. Snart had done some terrible things in the past, but this? _This_ was sick. He ran over, grabbed Snart by the shoulders, and yanked him off of his friend, throwing the other man toward the wall. He briefly considered tying him to a chair (or just tossing him out the window), but there was a malicious part of him that wanted to see Snart shocked at being caught in the act and try to sputter an excuse. Or maybe he wouldn’t be sorry at all and would instead give Barry a spiel about how being stronger than Cisco made it okay to just take what he wanted. There was only one way to find out, really.

So Barry slowed himself down to real-time.

Almost immediately, there were two distinct thudding sounds; one was Snart slamming into the wall of Cisco’s bedroom, the other was Cisco falling forward onto his bedspread. Apparently, Snart’s hands had been the only thing keeping the smaller man upright, and Cisco hadn’t been expecting their sudden absence. Snart, for his part, hadn’t been expecting to be suddenly tossed like a beanbag, and he’d barely had a moment to gather his bearings before Barry was upon him, pinning him to the wall with his forearm across Snart’s throat.

For a second, Snart stared at him with an expression of bewilderment, as if he was trying to process Barry’s sudden appearance. Then, his eyes narrowed in disapproval.

“Len? What’re you…?” Cisco murmured, craning his head to see behind himself. His eyes shot open when he saw the distinct red of the Flash’s suit. “Whoa…whoa, what the hell?”

“Well,” Snart managed to say, “ _this_ is an interesting development. But shouldn’t we discuss safe words and ground rules first, Barry?”

His flippant tone just served to enrage Barry further. So did Cisco’s confused babbling. Had Snart drugged him, or was he in shock? Either possibility was awful. “Shut up!” Barry snapped in Snart’s face. “We had a deal, you psychopath! You were supposed to stay the hell away from my friends and family!”

“I didn’t think that our agreement included _this_ ,” Snart said dully.

“WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T HURT MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY’ WAS TOO HARD TO GRASP?!” Barry yelled, not caring if Cisco’s neighbors heard him.

“Again, I didn’t think it extended to this kind of thing.”

“Barry, no, don’t,” Cisco tried. On the other side of the room, he was trying to get up, which was a bit tricky with his hands behind his back. “It…we were just…”

“Did you call him?” Snart said to Cisco, looking past Barry. He seemed bizarrely calm, given the situation at hand.

“No, I—” Cisco started.

“DON’T TALK TO HIM, SNART!” Barry yelled. “DON’T EVEN LOOK AT HIM!” He pushed down with his forearm, and Snart coughed.

“Barry, let him go!” Cisco said, sounding frantic.

“Listen to your friend,” Snart warned, fixing his steely gaze on Barry. “Let go of me.”

“Why should I?” Barry spat.

“BECAUSE YOU HAVE THE WRONG IDEA!” Cisco yelled. “Will you just give me a second to explain?!”

Of all the things that Cisco could have said, Barry hadn’t been expecting that. He turned to look at him, the word _‘What?’_ already on the tip of his tongue. But maybe that was a mistake, because the moment he took his eyes off of Snart, Snart laid into him with a sucker-punch to the temple. Captain Cold wasn’t a meta-human, but he still had enough strength in his upper body that the blow sent Barry staggering. And the moment he was free from Barry’s grasp, Snart struck again, kicking Barry’s knee hard enough to knock the speedster to the ground.

“Hey!” Cisco cried out from his position on the bed, but Barry was too busy grabbing onto Snart’s calf and yanking him to the ground, as well, to pay Cisco much mind. Snart hit the floor with tailbone-bruising _thud_ , grunting in discomfort as he did so, and Barry wheeled back his fist in preparation to slam it into Snart’s face.

Suddenly, Barry felt something crash into him—something blue and shimmery—and the force of it knocked him back like a tidal wave. Snart was hit, too, and pushed in the opposite direction. They both wound up sprawled on the floor, 10 feet apart, with Barry near a shelf of Funko Pop figurines and Snart near Cisco’s desk.

_Vibe blast,_ Barry thought to himself as soon as his ears stopped ringing. Sure enough, when he looked over at the bed, Cisco was standing next to it with his arms outstretched and his palms flat.

“EVERYBODY CALM DOWN!” Cisco yelled, sounding a bit deranged. “JUST STOP, OKAY?!” He took a deep breath.

Barry stared at Cisco. “Weren’t you handcuffed a second ago?” He managed to stand up, even though his knee was still throbbing a bit from where Snart had kicked him.

“The cuffs weren’t actually locked!” Cisco said indignantly. “I just had to push a button and they sprang right open!” He exhaled. “Like I said… _you have the wrong idea_.”

“What…what do you mean?” Barry said, trying to force himself do as Cisco said and calm the fuck down.

(Granted, Cisco hadn’t actually _said_ the word “fuck.” But the way he was looking at Barry seemed to imply it.)

Snart stood up, too, rubbing his head like all of these shenanigans were starting to wear him out. His eyes flickered to Barry, then to the cold gun propped up next to Cisco’s nightstand, and then to Cisco. Barry could tell he was trying to figure out if he could grab the gun (and, presumably, fire it) before Barry could stop him from doing so. The answer was no, of course, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

“Len, _don’t_ ,” Cisco said, reading the situation just as Barry had. “We’re just gonna talk this out.”

“Fine. Let’s talk,” Snart snapped. He sidestepped a bit, shoved a pile of laundry off of Cisco’s desk chair, and sat down in it backwards so that he could rest his arms on the chair’s back. He kept his eyes on Barry the whole time.

Barry looked at Cisco blankly. Since when was Snart “Len”? And since when did he actually listen when Cisco told him to do something?

With Snart pacified, Cisco turned his attention to Barry. “Okay, first of all: Barry, what are you doing here?”

“What am _I_ doing here?” Barry said as he pulled off the cowl of his suit. He felt a bit silly talking to those two while he was wearing it. “What is _Snart_ doing here?!”

“I was _invited_ here,” Snart said, glaring at him. “Which is more than we can say for you.”

“Barry, why are you here?” Cisco repeated. “Is there some kind of emergency?”

“Well, no. It’s just…you weren’t answering your phone. I had an idea for catching that ‘Bombshell’ meta—”

“Lemme guess: that nickname was your idea?” Snart interrupted, looking at Cisco.

Cisco nodded. “Yeah, she blows stuff up and she kinda looks like Marilyn Monroe. She reminded me of one of those pinups from the 50s.”

“Cute,” Snart said, smirking. There was something hungry in his eyes, like he was a fox and Cisco was a well-fed bunny rabbit.

“ _Anyway_ , I tried calling you a few times, and you didn’t answer,” Barry continued. “I got worried, so I thought I’d come check to make sure you hadn’t been kidnapped…” He looked at Snart, who met his gaze with steely resolve, “… _again_. Or something.”

Absentmindedly, Cisco patted his sides, like he was expecting for his phone to be in his pocket. Never mind the fact that he was in his underwear, and said underwear didn’t have pockets. “I didn’t…I didn’t hear it buzzing. I’m not sure where my phone is right now, actually.”

“It’s on your kitchen table,” Barry replied. “I saw it when I came in.”

“Oh, right!” Cisco said, running his fingers through his tousled hair. He hustled out of the room past Barry and returned a few seconds later, the phone now in his hand. “And…okay, yeah, it says I’ve got five missed calls from you.” He smiled sheepishly. “Uh, sorry about that, man.”

“It’s…it’s okay,” Barry said. “I was just…worried.”

“You know, I sometimes miss the days before cellphones,” Snart remarked offhandedly. He tugged at a loose thread in Cisco’s chair. “Sure, they’re convenient, but people didn’t used to panic if they couldn’t reach you for an hour…”

“Fascinating. Tell us more about life in the ’60s, Snart,” Barry spat. Taking a dig at the man’s age was petty, but he still wasn’t exactly in the mood to play nice.

To Snart’s credit, the comment didn’t really seem to offend him. “I was born in 1972, dumbass,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. “Are your research skills as bad as your ability to read a room?”

“ _Gentle_ -men!” Cisco said as he clapped his hands to get their attention. He was probably trying to sound authoritative, and he was definitely failing at doing so. “Let’s not forget what’s important here. We’ve established that I’m safe and that Snart had my permission to be here. So, we’re all okay, right?”

“No, we’re not ‘okay!’” Barry said, whirling on him. “When I let myself in, you two were…well, it looked like you were…” His lips didn’t want to form the words. “ _What_ is going on here?!”

“Uh…about that…” Cisco wrung his hands together. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, then shot Snart a desperate _please-help-me-out-here_ look.

Snart raised an eyebrow. “What, you want _me_ to say it? Fine.” He looked at Barry and cleared his throat. Then, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, he said, “Sometimes, when two people like each other very much, they express those feelings by—”

“Oh, my God! Can you not be a total ass for, like, _five_ seconds?” Cisco groaned. Shaking his head, he turned to Barry. “But…yeah…he and I were definitely getting it on. _Consensually_ ,” he added, as if he expected for Barry to hear the phrase _‘getting it on’_ and go ballistic again.

A bizarre sensation was coursing through Barry’s body, and the room suddenly felt way, _way_ too hot. After blinking his eyes and few times, he managed to choke out, “Wait, are you telling me that you two are…together?”

“Define ‘together,’” Snart drawled, scratching an itch behind his ear. He sounded bored, like he couldn’t believe that he was having this conversation when he could instead be…

…Ugh, never mind. Barry did _not_ want to complete that thought.

“We’re not ‘official’ or anything,” Cisco said. “Like, he’s _not_ my boyfriend. We’re not even exclusive. We just…hook-up. On the reg.” There was a tiny bit of flush to his cheeks. “For fun.”

“How long has this been going on?” Barry asked.

“Well, let’s see,” Snart said, still sounding bored. “Today’s Tuesday, right?”

“Right.”

“So…about two months, give or take.” There was a smirk on his face, and Barry had to suppress the urge to slug him.

Cisco exhaled. “Look, does it really matter? This…this thing that Snart and I have going on isn’t interfering with Team Flash stuff. So…I…you…” his voice trailed off, and he looked at Barry with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

If Barry was supposed to discern some kind of meaning from that last sentence fragment, he wasn’t getting it. He cocked his head at a quizzical angle, hoping Cisco would clarify things.

Snart cleared his throat again. “I think what Cisco’s trying to say is that what he and I do during our free time is _our_ business, not yours, so he really wishes that you would just go away,” Snart said. He gestured toward the door. “Run along, Flash.”

“That’s not...!” Cisco started indignantly, but then he swallowed. “I mean…maybe that’s _kinda_ what I’m trying to say. But I’m really trying to not be a dick about it.”

“I think we’re past the point of niceties, Baby Boy,” Snart countered. “You’re allowed to be a dick to people who break into your house—I’ve got gunshot scars to prove that particular rule.” He turned to Barry. “ _Why_ are you still here? Do you want to watch us screw, or something?”

Barry’s knee-jerk response to Snart’s question was, _Of course not; stop being weird!_ but he swallowed the words back down. This was all too much to take in at once, and Cisco and Snart ( _Len?_ ) talking over each other wasn’t really helping things. Speaking to them one-on-one was probably the better strategy.

“Alright, Cisco? Sidebar. Real quick,” Barry said as he yanked his cowl back on. And before Cisco could protest, Barry dashed them out of the apartment, up a few flights of stairs, and onto the roof of the building.

“Holy Hannah, dude—could you _please_ warn a guy, first?” Cisco said, folding in on himself and shivering the moment he registered that they were now outside. “Or at least let me put on a robe?”

“Oh, sorry,” Barry replied. Cisco’s boxers were clearly not doing very much to protect him from the October chill. “Do you want for me to go grab you some clothes?”

“No, it’s fine,” Cisco grunted. “But why’d you drag me out here?”

Barry exhaled. “I just…I need to know that you’re okay.”

“What? Of course I am.”

“He’s not…y’know, _forcing_ you to do anything you don’t want to do?”

“Oh, for the love of…! No, Barry, Len is _not_ blackmailing me, or manipulating me, or otherwise doing anything evil.” He exhaled. “In fact…this whole thing was kinda my idea in the first place.”

Barry’s jaw dropped. “Wait, _what_?”

“It’s a long story,” Cisco said quickly. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime when I’m not pissed off at you.”

“You’re pissed off at me?”

Cisco threw his hands in the air. “Uh, yeah, I am! You let yourself into my place without knocking first, catch me doing the horizontal hokey-pokey with someone who is—let’s be real— _way_ out of my league, and instead of apologizing or just leaving like a normal person would, you completely freak out and expect me to give you all the gory details!” He folded his arms across his chest. “I know that _you_ don’t mind telling everyone who’ll listen about you and Iris, but _I’m_ allowed to keep my private life _private_!”

“Of course you are,” Barry tried. “I just…I thought you were in trouble.” He paused for a moment, and then winced. “Why _him_?”

“What, are you weirded out that I like girls _and_ guys? I thought you already knew about that.”

“No, no, I’m not talking about that. I _did_ already know, and I don’t have a problem with it—like, at all.” Barry shook his head. “I just…why Leonard Snart, of all people? He is _not_ ‘way out of your league.’ If anything, you're out of _his_ league.”

Cisco managed a weak smile. “Thanks, I think?” He sighed. “Look, I guess the only thing I can say to that is, ‘Why _not_ Leonard Snart?’”

“Because he kidnapped you and forced you to make weapons for him! He tortured your brother until you told him my real name!” Barry said, trying to stop himself from yelling. “Did you just completely forget about all of that?!”

“That was a long time ago, Barry. He’s changed since then.” He stopped suddenly and made a face. “Okay, yeah, I know that sounds super ‘Lifetime Original Movie’ of me. But it’s true. And hey, aren’t _you_ the one who’s always giving him extra chances to prove he’s not a complete dick? He didn’t _have_ to help us break into A.R.G.U.S. back in 2017, ya know.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’m not saying he’s, like, a model citizen or anything. But I do think that spending half a year with the Legends and then two years being dead kinda mellowed him out.”

“Cisco—”

“Look, Barry,” Cisco said, sighing, “if me hooking up with Len legit freaks you out, I’ll stop doing it. ‘Cuz you’re my best friend, and being part of Team Flash is really important to me, and yeah, sleeping with a semi-reformed supervillain _probably_ constitutes a conflict of interest. But…I dunno, can you please just trust me on this?” His voice was resolute, but there was a small amount of trepidation in his eyes. A fear of rejection, Barry guessed. Cisco genuinely thought that Barry was going to demand that he stop doing something that he enjoyed just because _he_ had a problem with it.

Barry exhaled, suddenly feeling exhausted. And like a total jerk. If a casual, easy thing was what Cisco needed to feel better about his breakup with Cynthia, then who was he to stand in his way? “Yeah, I can…I can trust you on this. I’m not gonna tell you that you have to stop seeing him. Also…I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I was trying to help you, but I really just screwed up your night, huh?”

Cisco’s expression softened. “It’s…okay, I guess. This is hella embarrassing, and absolutely _not_ how I wanted you to find out about me and Len, but…there are worse things you could do with your powers than rescue first and ask questions later.”

“So…are we okay?”

“Yeah, for the most part. But if we go back to my apartment and Len’s gone, your nickname for the next three months is gonna be ‘Corporal Cockblock.’”

Barry laughed ruefully. “Okay. And actually, I hope he didn’t leave, because I need to talk to him, too.”

“About wh—?” Cisco began.

That was as far as he got before Barry dashed him back down the stairs and into his apartment, depositing him neatly on his bed. Snart was still sitting in Cisco’s desk chair, though he’d apparently pulled out his own phone and was now fiddling with it, looking bored again. Barry grabbed him and whisked him away to the roof, just as he had with Cisco moments prior. In total, the switch took less than two seconds.

Snart glanced up at him, seemingly startled by the sudden change in scenery. But then he narrowed his eyes. “Barry,” he growled, and Barry could see the rage bubbling just below the man’s calm façade, “I think we can both agree that I’ve been pretty patient with you tonight. But seriously: if you don’t stop whooshing around and interfering with my business, we’re gonna find out just how fast you can run with two shattered kneecaps.” His hands were balled into fists.

Under normal circumstances, the sight of Captain Cold trying to be intimidating when he was naked save for a pair of boxer-briefs would have been pretty funny. But Barry resisted the urge to bait him or crack a joke. What he had to say was important, so he steeled himself. “Look, Snart, I really don’t like this whole situation.”

“Well, thank goodness I don’t particularly care what you think of it.”

Barry swallowed. “Swear to me that you’re not just doing this to piss me off.”

It took Snart a second to process what Barry had said. When it clicked, he raised his eyebrows. “Wow, your ego is pretty astounding, kiddo. And I know that that’s rich coming from me, but the point still stands.”

“ _Swear, Snart._ ”

Snart put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Fine. I swear that I’m _not_ fucking your BFF just to get under your skin.” Barry wanted to cringe at Snart’s word choice, but fought to keep his face neutral. “Cisco and my…arrangement…has absolutely nothing to do with you. Or the fact that I’m a criminal and you two are heroes—I’m not trying to ‘lure him to the dark side’ or anything. We’re just friends with benefits.”

“When were you two ever _friends_?” Barry asked flatly.

“Well, now you’re just splitting hairs,” Snart snorted. His expression turned serious. “Alright, you asked me a question, and I gave you an honest answer. Time for you to answer one of _my_ questions.”

Barry hesitated. “Uh…okay? What do you want to know?”

“When you walked in on Cisco and me…did you _really_ think I was forcing myself on him?”

“Snart, he was handcuffed, and you had your hands on his neck and on his dick. What the hell was I supposed to think?” Barry grumbled.

“I dunno, maybe that we’re both consenting adults who might be interested in something other than vanilla, missionary-position sex?” he said, like he thought Barry was an idiot. “For the record, the handcuffs and throat-grabbing were _his_ idea, not mine.”

Barry winced. “I…I didn’t need to know that.”

“Maybe you did,” Snart spat. “Look, Barry: I’m not a rapist. I’m a criminal, and a liar, and occasionally a killer…but there _are_ still some lines that I won’t cross.” He turned away from Barry and glared off into the distance, as if there was something about his view of Central City from the building rooftop that pissed him off. “Really not sure why that’s so hard for people to grasp,” he murmured.

There was probably a story there, or at least a longer conversation. But Barry was too tired to deal with it at the moment. So instead of asking for further elaboration, he just exhaled. “Okay. But Snart…if you hurt him, or I find out that this really is part of some scheme…”

“You’ll throw me in that private prison of yours?” Snart guessed as he turned to look at Barry again. He seemed amused.

“No, I’ll put you _under_ that prison of mine,” Barry said, and he was surprised at just how venomous he sounded.

For a moment, Snart’s face betrayed his surprise, too. But then he laughed. “Yeesh, and they call _me_ ‘Captain Cold.’” He shrugged. “Fair enough, though. You take care of your friends and family. I can respect that.”

“Good.”

“So, can we go inside now?” Snart said. “Even _I_ think it’s a little chilly to be standing out here in my underwear.”

There was a petty, childish part of Barry that wanted to leave Snart on the rooftop and make him walk all the back to Cisco’s apartment on his own. After all, Barry had once left Snart in the woods, and the guy had apparently made his way back to civilization just fine. But Barry had a feeling that Cisco would be annoyed if he did that, so he (with a small amount of reluctance) sped both of them back to Cisco’s bedroom. He didn’t bother depositing Snart on the bed like he had with Cisco, though, so Snart stumbled slightly after their sudden jaunt.

(Hey, Barry never claimed to be perfect.)

Cisco snapped to attention when he saw the two of them. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Barry said.

“Uh-huh,” Snart said, leaning against Cisco’s desk. “Barry just had to give me a shovel speech, is all.”

Cisco groaned. “For real, Barry?” He looked at Snart. “Good thing we didn’t put money on _that_ bet.”

“‘Shovel speech?’” Barry said, clueless.

“You know—‘if you hurt him, I’ll put you in the ground,’” Cisco said to Barry. “Len told me a while back that he was pretty sure you’d have one for him if you ever found out about us. And I said I didn’t think you would.”

“I’m not apologizing for being concerned,” Barry said.

“No one’s asking you to,” Snart replied, his voice casual. “Anyway, it’s always fun waxing poetic with you, Barry, but the night’s still young.” He raised his eyebrows. “So unless you want to try negotiating your way into a threesome…get outta here so I can bang Cisco.” Behind him, Cisco rolled his eyes and groaned.

“I…don’t think that Iris would be okay with that,” Barry said as he verified that his cowl was still in place. “With me hooking up with you two, I mean.” He actually wasn’t sure how Iris would react to the news that Cisco was having sleepovers with his enemy-turned-ally-that-he-still-didn’t-fully-trust. Odds were that she’d either be worried for Cisco’s safety or be happy that Cisco was getting some action. Maybe both?

“I’d be okay with inviting her, too,” Snart said, like they were making plans to have dinner or go to the movies. He glanced at Cisco’s bed. “Think we could fit four people in there?”

Cisco snorted. “On _my_ crappy little bed? Doubt it.”

“Hmmm,” Snart said. “I’ll get you a bigger one. And a better mattress, too, since I’m pretty sure that one’s older than you are.”

“There is _definitely_ not enough space in here for a King-sized bed, Dude,” Cisco said. “I’ve been meaning to upgrade to a Queen for a while, but—”

“Alright, I’m heading out,” Barry interrupted. “Good night, both of you.”

“G’night,” Snart replied.

“Yeah, uh…I’ll see you tomorrow at the Labs,” Cisco replied. “Hey, what was that thing you wanted to tell me about Bombshell, anyway?”

Barry paused. In the chaos, he’d almost forgotten, himself. “It…it can wait. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Ah. Okay.”

Barry looked at the two of them for another second. Then, he sighed and took off. What else could he do? If he’d made a point to remind Cisco to use protection (“No glove, no love!”), he probably would have gotten smacked with another vibe blast. And, if he was being honest, he probably would have deserved it.

***

The next few days were normal, at least by Team Flash standards. They managed to apprehend Bombshell the afternoon after Barry had walked in on Cisco and Snart; Barry really had been onto something when he’d suggested that they blast her with a cold gun to keep her from combusting. The plan worked, and Devon Flint was escorted to Iron Heights in power-dampening cuffs.

The whole time they’d been discussing the plan, Barry kept waiting for Cisco to suggest that they bring Snart in on the case, what with him being the resident cold gun “master.” But he didn’t. They simply used an extra gun that they had in reserve (the same one that Siren-X had stolen during her brief rampage on Earth-1), and Vibe wielded it when the time came to do so. Apparently, Cisco was serious about keeping his private life private.

No, Barry didn’t hear anything else about Snart until several nights later, while he was in his lab at the CCPD headquarters. He’d been catching up on some paperwork when his cell phone buzzed with a new text. Barry half-expected a message from Iris, asking if he was on his way home yet, but it was actually from Cisco. And he’d sent a photo.

Intrigued, Barry opened the picture. It had clearly been taken inside of Cisco’s apartment, specifically, Cisco’s bedroom. But the bed that Barry had seen the other night had been replaced. The current bed setup was bigger, somewhat more ornate, and looked fairly expensive. The sheets appeared new (and pricey), as well.

Cisco’s text said, “ _This was in my room when I came home. It’s the frame and mattress I wanted—the ones I showed Len after I found out that he was serious about buying me a new bed. But I wasn’t expecting for it to be here NOW. And I’m not sure where the old stuff is???”_

Barry replied, “ _Did you have anything hidden in the old mattress?”_

A minute later, Cisco said, _“No lol. But remind me to ask Joe if any furniture stores in Central City or Keystone got robbed recently. This all happened weirdly fast.”_

Barry shook his head, trying to suppress a grin. A heist to steal a bedframe, box spring, and mattress seemed a little petty and stupid for a master thief like Leonard Snart—odds were good that he’d simply bought the furniture and put a rush on it. But then again, the sheer size of the items might have presented a fun challenge, so who could really know? Regardless, he’d definitely broken into Cisco’s apartment in order to surprise him, and _that_ seemed very on-brand for Snart.

There was more to it, though, when Barry thought it over. The gesture was pretty good sign that Snart was planning to maintain his and Cisco’s arrangement, at least for now. After all, he probably wouldn’t have given Cisco a new bed if he wasn’t planning on using it, too.

Barry’s smile faded, and he let out a sigh. He wasn’t sure what Cisco was getting himself into—and, by extension, what he was getting the whole team into. Were he and Snart really going to just stay friends-with-benefits? Or were emotions going to get involved and make this messy? Good Lord, was Snart going to start showing up at the Labs to pick Cisco up for dates? What if Cisco wanted to double-date with him and Iris?

After Barry had gotten home the night he found out about them, he’d told Iris an abridged version of what he’d seen and heard. She’d been surprised at first (“And you’re sure it was _our_ Snart? Not one from a different earth, or something?”), but then she’d just shrugged. _“Well, I can’t say I approve…but if that’s what Cisco wants to do, it’s up to him.”_

_“You don’t think we should try to stop him?”_ Barry had asked.

And to that, Iris had laughed. _“Barry Allen, just let the man live his life. If there’s a problem, we’ll deal with it. But for now…try to be happy that he’s happy.”_ She kissed his nose. _“And, Babe? You REALLY need to learn to knock first.”_

Barry heaved another sigh. Yes, if Cisco’s… _thing_ …with Snart really was going to continue for the foreseeable future, he would never, _ever_ walk into Cisco’s apartment unannounced again.

**To Be Continued…**

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who jumped down here for a more detailed trigger warning: Barry walks in on Cisco and Snart getting “hot and heavy” and immediately assumes (incorrectly) that Snart is assaulting Cisco. He learns that it’s a consensual encounter relatively quickly, though. Later, Snart asks Barry if Barry actually thought that he was hurting Cisco, and is he’s offended by the implication that Barry would think he’s capable of something like that. To reiterate: there’s no ACTUAL assault in the story. It’s all a misunderstanding.
> 
> Anyway, please excuse the super cheesy “To be continued” tagline at the end. Like I said, this is the first part in a series that I’ve been wanting to share for a long time. :)
> 
> And…that’s all from me for now! If you read the story all the way to the end, PLEASE consider leaving a comment, since I very much enjoy getting feedback! And feel free to hit me up on Tumblr at [christineWIPmachine](https://christinewipmachine.tumblr.com/) (my fanworks blog) or [ChristineQuizMachine](https://christinequizmachine.tumblr.com/) (my personal/general blog), as well.


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